


The Completely Romcom-esque Life of One Karkat Vantas

by captainRochol



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, F/M, Humanstuck, Slice of Life, karkat is living in a romcom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 19:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainRochol/pseuds/captainRochol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're busy with your Ritz-Bits, so you don't notice her until she plops into the empty seat next to you. You turn to ask her to leave, and glare a bit, but you stop. </p><p>She's pretty. </p><p>Shoulder-length reddish brown hair, medium fair skin with a splash of freckles on her pointy, upturned nose, and sparkling green eyes. She grins at you, reaches over, and steals some Ritz-Bits. And you do absolutely nothing about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Completely Romcom-esque Life of One Karkat Vantas

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you're pretty sure you lived in a romantic comedy. 

SIX

You met Terezi Pyrope in first grade. 

It was about halfway through the school year, and you had no friends. Not even one. It was just the same as kindergarten, except while last year you had screamed and hit the kids, you just sulk away from them. 

She was an exchange student. She had been living in some Middle Eastern country with family, but had been born here in Florida. 

You were busy with your Ritz-Bits, so you didn't notice her until she ploped into the empty seat next to you. You turned to ask her to leave, and maybe glare a bit, but you stopped. 

She's pretty. 

Shoulder-length reddish brown hair, medium fair skin with a splash of freckles on her pointy, upturned nose, and sparkling green eyes. She grinned at you, reached over, and stole some Ritz-Bits. And you do absolutely nothing about it. 

-*-

EIGHT

It's third grade, and you've finally made some friends other than Terezi: Sollux, the honey blonde you bonded with when he threw a plastic bee at your head; Kanaya, the gentle, dark-skinned girl who was the only one who was nice when you cried in class the day after your mom died; and Eridan, who, you decided, was actually really annoying. 

Nevertheless, you had a solid group of friends, and you all spend your time on the playground having a grand old time. 

Until you realize that, even though Terezi's a girl, and girls have cooties, she's really cute. And you wouldn't mind getting cooties. Not if they were from her. 

So one faithful afternoon on the playground, behind the rockwall, you handed her a hand-picked bunch of dandelions and white clover flowers. She looked absolutely delighted, and tackled you, giving you a kiss. 

(Years from now, you'd look back on that moment in awe--- Terezi Pyrope kissed you. Willingly.)

-*-

TWELVE 

Halfway through seventh grade, you came to a decision: Middle school sucks balls. It really, truly does. 

Everyone, and you mean everyone, wanted nothing more than to be a high schooler, and therefore are being completely stupid in trying to act like them. You want to pound it into their skull: middle school dating is stupid. Because it really is. 

You told Sollux this, and he told you to piss off, you're just jealous that TZ doesn't get the hint you like her. 

You had flushed red, and started yelling, but by that time, Aradia had bounded over and Sollux disappeared with her, leaving you flustered and peeved with Sollux's middle-school-romance-escapades. 

Middle school romance is stupid, you comforted yourself, and on top of that, you Do Not like Terezi Pyrope. Not even a little bit. 

-*-

THIRTEEN

One year later, she had her accident. 

She and Vriska were lab partners for some experiment, which was a big, big mistake. 

(Befriending Vriska Serket was probably the biggest mistake Terezi had made up until that point in her life.) 

But at any rate, Vriska was apparently still a huge bitch like she had been for the last fourteen years of her life, and while Terezi had been writing something down, Vriska mixed two highly volatile chemicals together. 

(You'll never know how she had gotten access to these chemicals; rumors have floated around about her stealing the keys, her picking the lock with nothing but a student ID and half a stick of gum, and her just kicking the lock until it broke.)

She then quickly left the desk, went up to the front to bother Kanaya, and had just smirked when Terezi started screaming. 

The beaker had exploded. Everyone in the class panicked, running out, except for Vriska, Terezi, and the teacher. The teacher grabbed Terezi and hurried the girl out (she was covering her eyes and screaming in pain, tears and blood running down her cheeks), and Vriska took a moment to admire her handiwork from inside the classroom.

That was mistake number two for Vriska. 

The beaker apparently hadn't finished blowing up yet. The base was still intact up until then. But then it exploded, and a piece of glass sliced her across the face. Now it was her who was clutching her eye and screaming. 

Three eyes, a friendship, Vriska's reputation, and funding for the middle school lab program were lost that day. 

-*-

FIFTEEN

It was only a few weeks into the freshman year of high school when you become best friends with one Terezi Pyrope.

It was funny, really; you had been good friends up until that point, but it was only freshman year when you became actual best friends. 

You two were thick as theives. Since Terezi and Vriska weren't on speaking terms anymore, she had a slot open for the Best Friend Position. You had somehow filled that spot before Dave, a victory you had reveled in. It wasn't often that you bested the blonde, and that had been a major besting. 

Terezi had lived a few blocks down from you, in a big house with her aunt Neophyna, the best prosecutor in Florida, and her adopted sister Latula, who was born in Quebec. 

Her house and family had always intimidated you a bit (you'd never admit it though; when she asked why you never went to her house, you merely replied that three Pyrope women in one house with you would make you disembowl yourself, Samuri-style), so you always went to your house. 

Your house wasn't bad; sure, it wasn't the large estate the Pyropes owned, but it was big enough for you, your dad, and Kankri. You lived up in the attic, which had been converted into a working bedroom. 

So, every Saturday, Terezi came over, carrying four pints of Ben and Jerry's ice cream; Cherry Garcia for her, and Half Baked for you. 

And you had two six packs of soda; Dr. Pepper for her, and Vanilla Coke for yourself. 

Almost religiously, you played Mario Kart and Super Smash Bros on your secondhand Wii (and Pokemon on your old DS Lites, if you felt like indulging her.)

(You often did.)

She could somehow still play video games, despite her handicap, and managed to kick your ass too. 

Then you'd start up another game. As soon as the last bite of ice cream was eaten and the last soda drank, she'd grab her red DS Lite, her Pokemon Pearl game, and leave your house. 

This had become second nature for you, and you had almost been disappointed when things changed. 

-*-

SEVENTEEN

When you start your junior year, everything goes to hell. 

You had been dating Jade Harley over the summer, but she never liked you that much, and broke it off after two or three months. 

And you had developed romantic feelings for one Terezi Pyrope. 

Which sucked, because your video game and ice cream Saturdays had been a bit awkward for you. 

You had frequently found yourself staring at her, studying the determined expression on her face and, you feel like a pervert for this, the curves of her body. 

Terezi Pyrope has certainly blossomed. 

No longer the thin bag of bones and knives she was in elementary and middle school, she put on some size. Her breasts and ass have grown perfectly, causing her to be the centerpiece of 99.99% of your late-night fantasies. 

Yes, Terezi Pyrope had certainly grown up. 

So, one fresh spring day, you had decided to make your move after biology, because she had that class after you. You waited outside of the classroom, nervous and sweating. 

You were going to ask her out. And nothing, come hell or high water, was going to stop you. 

You had waited there, watching as she approached, Dave Strider right next to her. You swallowed your scowl, and forced yourself to act pleasant. Just in front of him. 

Terezi had said a hello to you cheerily, then just as you opened your mouth to ask her out, she turned and gave Dave a kiss. Right on the lips. 

Your eyes had widened, and you immediately felt sick. Dave had his hands on her wide hips, holding her close as they shared a tender moment, right in front of you. 

You slunk back into the classroom as they practically made out in the middle of the hallway, feeling hurt, betrayed, and sick to your stomach. 

This wasn't supposed to have happened. 

-*-

EIGHTEEN

Graduation day. It had finally arrived. 

Not that you had been excited or anything; no, that had meant that you were leaving for Florida State University to double major in psychology and literature. And while that was all fine and good, Terezi was going to go across the country to study law at Harvard. 

Of course she was going to Harvard. She wouldn't settle for anything less. Your only concession is that Dave's just going to some community college, to study, and you quote, "Modern Dubstep's Place in History". 

(What a tool.)

The procession of tearful and victorious seniors had slowly passed through, each looking like they were about to burst into tears as they clutched their cheaply made diplomas. At the end of everyone, a picture is taken, then everyone tossed their navy caps in the air victoriously. 

You reluctantly decided you had to say goodbye to Terezi, since you probably wouldn't see her for the rest of your life. The thought of never seeing her again made your insides twist painfully. 

So you didn't think about it. 

You went over to her, biting your lip, clutching your diploma tightly. She seemed to be in a fight with Dave, and your heart had lifted. 

After a while, he had stormed off, leaving a slightly tearful Terezi by herself. She hurriedly scrubbed her eyes as she had heard Karkat approaching and took a deep breath. 

They exchanged their goodbyes, and he left with a heavy heart. 

-*-

TWENTY-TWO

At college, you had met a girl named Nepeta Leijon. She was a short little Korean girl who was actually really cute, and was obviously quite enamored with you. 

You did not return her feelings. 

But you tried to be kind to her anyway, and one day invited her over to help you with psychology homework and maybe have a few drinks? 

(You both had more than a few drinks.)

You had woken up the next morning with her curled up to you. You were both completely naked. 

You couldn't remember much of the night before, but when she woke up, she asked who Terezi was. 

-*-

TWENTY-FIVE

You couldn't believe it. You were standing outside the Florida courtroom-- you had just gotten summons for jury duty-- when none other than Terezi Pyrope had walked pass you.

 

You stared at her stupidly for a moment, as she passed, then hurried after her, calling her name. 

She can hardly believe it's you. You hadn't seen each other in six whole years. 

You had hugged her tightly before you can stop yourself. She smells like strawberry shampoo, and something else, something more sinster, something completely un-Terezi. It takes a moment to place the scent, but she lets out a pained gasp as you recognize it as cigarettes and cheap beer. 

You released her immediately, concerned. It was then you notice the bruises creeping up her neck, mostly covered by her pantsuit. 

You asked what happened, why is she brusied?

She backed up towards the courthouse. She had fallen down a flight of stairs, she had said hurriedly, before running into the courtroom. 

-*-

TWENTY-SIX

Gamzee Makara. 

That was the name of her abusive boyfriend. 

Turned out she had dumped Dave a few years back, and she started dating that joker. 

You met him for the first time when Terezi had invited you out for lunch. She had explained over the phone that she was sorry she hasn't invited you out earlier, but she had just been swamped with work. 

(You learn, years from then, that Gamzee didn't like her talking to old friends. Or new friends, for that matter.)

You met at a little hole-in-the-wall café, a place only the locals know and love. 

Despite the fact it's mid-summer, she wore a long-sleeved black turtleneck and long red pants. She stopped wearing her trademark crocs too, trading them for a pair of red converse. 

You didn't question her choice of attire, and had a nice lunch together, catching up on old times. 

As you're both halfway through the cheesecake you ordered, you hear an engine backfire loudly from outside.

You had leaned over and looked out the front window, to see a tall, gangly man with a mess of black hair and tanned skin climb out of a rusted white truck with a missing hood. 

Terezi had paled as she heard the noise, and she started to get up, walking towards the bathroom quickly. The man caught up to her and grabbed her arm tightly. Even though he had been a few feet away, you can smell him. He smelled like cigarettes and pot, cheap booze and sweat. 

(You'll always remember that smell.)

He had asked what she was doing here, who was this man she was eating lunch with. 

Her face had crumpled, and she answered, in a way that was so unlike the strong woman you knew, that he was her old friend---

She never got to finish. He slapped her hard across the face, and hissed at her to shut the hell up. She tried not to cry as he dragged her outside. 

You had stood and looked out the window, eyes wide as you watched him shove her in the truck and start to beat her up. She just took it.

And you had let her. 

-*-

TWENTY-EIGHT

You had finally got her to break up with him, but the damage was extensive. 

She was still bruised and battered, both inside and out. She had dark bruises smattering the skin you can see (usually her arms and neck and legs) and scarred-over red slits on her arms, from when Gamzee had told her how inadequate, how fat, how ugly she was. 

And on the inside, her self-confidence was completely gone, and she thought of herself as a fat, horribly ugly girl who had deserved every punch and kick and horrible lashing she got.

(You know she's not, but you also knew it was going to take more than one pep talk to convince her.)

-*-

TWENTY-NINE

You were disappointed that your relationship with one Terezi Pyrope hadn't progressed to anything past being frieds. 

But at least you were comfortable around each other. 

She'd moved in with you (only as a friend, you reminded yourself daily), and every Saturday, you both devoured two pints of Cherry Garcia and Half Baked, and whoop each other at Mario Kart. 

She wasn't the same as she used to be, back when you were both eighteen. 

(Then again, neither were you.) 

But you supported each other. 

-*- 

THIRTY

It was New Year's. 

So cliché, you thought nowadays, as you look back on that day; it was like your life was some romcom, like the ones that line your shelves. You're pretty sure everything in your life led up to that moment.

It had been just you and her alone that New Year's Eve, drinking coke and gin while watching--- okay, she listened--- to the Florida ball-drop. 

You had both stood, cheap plastic champange flutes in hand as the television counted down to the New Year. 

5--

She turned and smiled at you, and for once you could return it. 

4--

You both took a step towards each other, preparing to toast. 

3--

She bit her lip, looking up at you. 

2--

(Okay, maybe not looking, but the blind equivalent.)

1--

You parted your lips, the words everyone said on your lips,

Happy New Year's!

And she had kissed you. 

 

Your brain stopped working for half a second, not registering that she was spilling champagne all over your shoes, or that the tv was way too loud; you just noticed how soft her lips were, and how she smelled like strawberries. 

And then, dropping the plastic glass aside, you wrapped your arms around her, kissing her back with everything and more. 

 

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and everything is finally, finally okay.


End file.
